Return of Old Horrors
by David Wesker
Summary: An original character fiction set within the Resident Evil universe. The main character is sent to investigate an abandoned facility and things go horribly wrong. Has references to a couple of established characters.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:**

**This story is a work of fiction written by me. Any events in this story are fictional and any similarity to actual events is coincidental and unintentional. This story is is not intended to infringe on rights or properties and I receive no profit. The character of David Trafalgar and other characters created by me, along with this story, are mine. **

**Resident Evil and related characters are the property of and copyrighted by Capcom and the creators of Resident Evil.**

**All other properties are copyrighted by their respective owners.**

**Rated: M - For language and violence**

**Resident Evil - Return of Old Horrors**

A story by David Wesker

South America, western Brazil

The sky was dark as David Trafalgar sat on the bench inside of the equally dark helicopter. Thick, patchy clouds obscured the light of the moon as the helicopter headed towards the intended destination. This was a stroke of luck for the visiting team. Their approach would be even less obvious than normal.

The journey here had been lengthy and circuitous. He had flown from DFW and a few other stops down to Bogota, Columbia. From there he had made his way, as a working vacationer, to Buenos Aires. There, he got a hotel room and set himself up as a photographer for a travel service and vacation-based magazine. He spent several days out of the hotel, coming back very late or not at all. After a week, Trafalgar made sure his bill was paid up for another two weeks and then quietly disappeared.

He made his way from Buenos Aires northwest toward La Paz, Bolivia. He travelled quietly by boat, jeep and his own two feet. Once in La Paz, he met a contact from the B.S.A.A. and now he was flying around in the dark. Shame about having to leave away from La Paz so soon, the contact was kind of cute. Maybe when he got back.

Trafalgar chuckled to himself, he said "when". My was he being cocky. Oh well, positive thinking never hurt anyway, right?

"Coming up on the LZ coordinates," came a voice in his headset. The pilot.

"Copy that," Trafalgar replied.

"Your call sign for this mission will be Fox," said another voice, the co-pilot this time. "This platform will be Black Cloud. Understood?"

"Affirmative."

"Ten minutes to LZ."

"Copy."

Once again alone with his thoughts, Trafalgar pondered on this whole scenario. Essentially he was a field operative that was sent in to kick over the rocks and expose the scum underneath. Then the more public-faced B.S.A.A. operatives would sweep in like the proverbial white knight. Take the pictures and video, make arrests and so on. There was one of those white knight teams preparing even now. Just waiting on his go-ahead.

The codename for this mission, for him, was Fox. An animal that survived mostly alone in the wild. Most likely a joke at his propensity for choosing missions that allowed him more latitude in the personnel department. He found it easier to manage the details when he was the only one to consider. Other people just got in the way. They were unpredictable. This was not the kind of lifestyle that tolerated variables.

On that note, the mission briefing was rather sketchy.

All that he was told by Jill Valentine was that a facility had been sighted and confirmed in the area. Random satellite pass picked up a group of structures. A crosscheck with old files from Umbrella's basement showed that the coordinates did coincide with a facility they had there. It was supposedly long abandoned.

When in operation, the facility had been used to manufacture and study the Progenitor virus. It had not been a major target due to it's remote location. The facility had been lost in the shuffle by both sides. Now the B.S.A.A. was interested and he was about to put his boots on the ground and go scope things out.

All of this to check out a supposedly abandoned site. Hey, he got into this job for the money and the travel. He was in South America getting paid. Could not beat that.

_"_Beginning descent," came a voice over the radio again.

The helicopter began to drop in altitude and Trafalgar ran a quick check of his gear. It was game time now. He was running out of the locker room and about to hit the field. In his hands he held a Mk 18 close quarters battle rifle. On his hip was a SIG 229R chambered in .357, a hold over from his former career with the Federal Air Marshal Service. Backing that up he had four M67 hand grenades, a KA-BAR knife, a multi-tool and another smaller knife.

_"_Touchdown!" came the voice of the co-pilot over the radio. "Go, go, go!"

Trafalgar exited the helicopter quickly and ducked down, making his way away from the vehicle and keeping close to the ground. Black Cloud barely touched the ground before it was in the air again.

Now he was on his own.


	2. Chapter 2

When the helicopter's sounds faded into the distance, Trafalgar slowly made his way towards the facility. He was roughly two klicks away and was to make his way there the rest of the way on foot. He travelled light, which was good for the travelling part of it. He just hoped that the facility was abandoned. There was no way he could take on an extended firefight.

A soft wind blew through the grass as Trafalgar quietly made his way forward, shifting tracks and positions. He used his night vision scope to examine the field in front of him at random intervals. Thus far he had not seen anything.

The trip from the landing zone to the target point was not long, but it had seemed so. His method of advance had been staggered and indirect. He used the wind and the cloud cover to remain as unseen as possible. When he was finally in sight of the buildings, Trafalgar took a full fifteen minutes to study them through his night vision gear.

Kneeling down behind a small tree, Trafalgar kept an eye on the facility and his surroundings with the night vision and got on the radio.

"Black Cloud, this is Fox," he said. "Over."

_"_Black Cloud, we read you Fox."

"At target point," Trafalgar started. "No signs of activity. Will recon and advance in thirty, over."

"Roger Fox," came the voice of the pilot. _"_Recon and advance in thirty. Expect update in thirty past. Over."

"Copy Black Cloud," Trafalgar said quietly. "Fox out."

Fox studied the facility again and, seeing no movement, shifted positions. He would make a slow circle of the facility and then move in. With luck he could wrap this up in a few hours and be back in Buenos Aires for a few days of vacation. He started circling to the east and made his way back westward, skirting the perimeter. Seeing nothing, Trafalgar made his way slowly into the outpost.

Starting with the outbuildings, Trafalgar began to clear the outpost. The first two buildings were for storage of supplies and equipment. Some marks on the floor of one showed that an ATV had once been there. There was nothing there now except a few random tools a weathered work bench and a lot of rust.

Another building was some kind of personnel office. A trailer with a desk and a few empty filing cabinets. Trafalgar searched through the drawers and came up with nothing more than a few empty sunflower seed bags and a few papers related to requests for supplies. Basic lab equipment, pens and pencils. Nothing remarkable.

The other out buildings proved to be a small infirmary, a clubhouse, a library and a barracks. Again, nothing out of the ordinary to be found. The game of darts in the clubhouse was mildly amusing with the board being fashioned in the style of the Umbrella logo. He might take that back with him. Other than that, fairly boring.

The only building left was the main one in the center of the camp. Checking his watch, Trafalgar radioed in to Black Cloud his findings.

"Outbuildings searched, nothing remarkable," said Trafalgar. "Moving to main building now."

"Copy, Fox," came the voice of the co-pilot. _"_Report in one hour."

"Roger, Fox out."

Exiting the barracks, Trafalgar made his way over to the main lab building. That was where the research happened. The building looked to be fashioned from cinder block, wood and corrugated tin. When he got closer Trafalgar could see that this was merely a clever shell. The building was fashioned to be a bunker and was most likely larger than it appeared.

Trying the front door, Trafalgar found it to be locked. He stood back and studied the door for a moment. For an abandoned facility, a locked door was rather odd. That could mean that something worth stealing had been left behind when they cleared out or that more was going on here than could be seen with the naked eye. Or some scientist remembered to lock up on his way out. Either way, Trafalgar decided it was best to find an alternative route inside rather than attempting to break through the door.

Moving around the building, Trafalgar looked for a possible secondary entrance. There were no other doors or windows. Climbing up onto the roof, Trafalgar studied his options and decided to try and break through the air conditioning system. Using his multi-tool, Trafalgar worked the rusted screws holding on a grate. The entrance was a little small, but he could possibly do it. He removed his tac vest and eased it into the opening before following slowly after. He soon found himself inside of the security area.

All of the computer systems were off so Trafalgar was able to make his way through the electronic doors simply by sliding them open. The security offices held nothing but empty desks and cabinets and a few bikini posters. The rest of the floor was offices that were general empty or otherwise unremarkable.

Coming across another door that lead to a lower floor, Trafalgar slowly slid it open and made his way quietly down the stairs. This floor appeared to be the laboratory area. Several rooms with large tables and test tubes. Some for storage and study materials. A break room with some soda and snack vending machines and a water cooler. The water was filmy looking, Trafalgar did not care to guess had long it had been stagnant. Some roaches skittered around the vending machine, refrigerator and sink.

Trafalgar did not investigate the refrigerator. There was no telling would come out of there, particularly in a bio-weapons lab.


	3. Chapter 3

The study area had some books on algebra, trigonometry, biology, flora and fauna, arts and crafts, periodicals and more than a few men's magazines. The labs were devoid of any major equipment. Some Bunsen burners, test tubes, beakers, books, tubing and a few random chemicals. And more roaches.

_"Looks like they bugged out of here real quick," _thought Trafalgar to himself.

After finishing the search of the first sub floor, Trafalgar radioed in again. He was to continue the search and report back in another hour. He had found another door leading down. He walked over to it now and slowly slid the door aside. Deeper down the rabbit hole he went.

The sub-basement level where Trafalgar now stood was like a picture torn of a Good Housekeeping in Hell. There was one lab on this floor and the rest of the area was a warehouse of bloody, rusty, disgusting cages and portable solitary confinement units. It was such a turn around from the cleanish, clinical rooms that he had seen so far. He had found the experimentation part of the facility.

The part where they kept all their Progenitor-infected subjects.

Unfortunately the facility was scrubbed. No data tapes or video discs or manuals or reports. Nothing remained except a few tables and a broken coffee mug. Trafalgar did a slow tour of the floor, the scent of rotting flesh still noticeable despite all of the test subjects being gone.

All of the floor drains were caked with a reddish-greenish-blackish, utterly vile substance. Trafalgar used a pair of tweezers to collect a sample. Like used chewing gum, the material strung out as he removed a small section for later analysis. He put the tweezers and sample all into a small collection vile and sealed it up securely before placing the vial itself into a sealable plastic bag.

_"Hideous...," _thought Trafalgar.

At the end of the floor was an elevator. More specifically a cargo elevator as it was large, had built in restraint mounts and was far more sturdily built than the average model.

"Just how far down does this place go?" Trafalgar wondered to himself.

Getting on his radio, he sent out a message.

"Black Cloud, this is Fox," he started. "Found test subject holding elevator. Deserted for some time. Located elevator in sub-basement. Moving to investigate."

"Copy Fox," came the voice of the pilot. "Proceed with caution."

"Roger, Black Cloud," Trafalgar replied. "Fox out."

Trafalgar pressed the call button for the elevator. Oddly enough a very normal sounding tone echoed throughout the room and the floor indicator above the doors lit up. Trafalgar stepped back, more than a little surprised. He readied his weapon and moved a little further back in the room, turning over a stainless steel table to use as cover.

As each floor was reached, another tone echoed throughout the room. It was incredibly eerie after so much silence. As the elevator car neared his floor, Trafalgar prepared himself. His rifle was at the ready, aimed on the general opening of the elevator. Two more tones and the door would open.

One more.

_*ding!*_

The doors opened slowly with a sound as if they were rubbing against sandpaper. The interior of the elevator was exposed inch by inch and Trafalgar saw nothing but darkness. The doors opened fully and then time seemed to freeze. The elevator car was shrouded in darkness, Trafalgar remained kneeling behind the stainless steel lab table he had over-turned.

Watching. Waiting.

_*frzzt!*_

The lights inside the car came on with a stuttering flicker, bathing the car with a bluish-white light. A clean contrast to the weathered and grimy lab. The light revealed nothing inside of the elevator car, but Trafalgar waited for a few more seconds.

Slowly standing, Trafalgar secured his rifle and drew his sidearm before moving from behind the table and approaching the elevator. He had heard no sounds and seen no movements. The car was large enough to possibly stand off to one side of the door or another and not be immediately seen. Did it conceal a threat?

Stopping midway, Trafalgar kicked a large piece of broken glass into the elevator. He still heard nothing and saw nothing. He slowly approached, moving off to one side of the opening. Ears open, Trafalgar kept his eyes on the opening, on the glass. He saw nothing reflected on it's surface as he made his way closer. Finally, he stole a glance inside of the car and saw nothing of note other than a few old blood stains. The car was clear. Trafalgar reholstered his sidearm.

Moving slowly into the elevator, Trafalgar took some samples from the blood stains on the floor and walls of the elevator. He doubted their usefulness, but it could not hurt. Standing, he sealed up the last sample.

That was when he heard the noise.

The doors of the elevator closed with a sharp metallic sound and the car began to descend. Without knowing the full layout of the facility, Trafalgar knew he was in a bad position. He pressed several buttons and even accessed the control panel, both avenues proving to be futile. Apparently this situation could not be solved by randomly ripping out wires.

The lights in the elevator car fizzled out blowing out two bulbs and Trafalgar pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"Excrement."

The elevator continued dropping, occasionally vibrating heavily. On one such occasion, Trafalgar nearly lost his footing and impacted against a wall of the car. There was nothing to do but wait for the elevator to reach it's destination.

_*ding!*_

The elevator came to a grinding halt and the doors opened slowly and unevenly. Trafalgar peered out of the elevator and took in his new surroundings. It appeared to be a man-made cave system. There was some lighting, but it was minimal at best. The floor of the cave system appeared to be paved but the walls and ceiling were rough-hewn. If he had to guess, Trafalgar would have believed it to be incomplete.

"Basement floor," thought Trafalgar. "Storage, lingerie and lawn furniture. Wonder where the exit to this place is?"

Trying his radio, Trafalgar found it to be useless. Emitting nothing but static. Shaking his head, he turned it off and brought out his night-vision goggles. He would not find the way out by simply standing around.


	4. Chapter 4

Sydney, Australia / BSAA Headquarters T76

A woman sat at a computer console station examining the screen in front of her. She had on a set of earphones and her fingers danced lightly across the keyboard in front of her. Every so often she would stop and enter something on a small datapad beside her. She moved with a practiced grace, her every movement economical and precise.

This was her third year with the BSAA as a mission data specialist. Coordinating, organizing, updating and reporting on field operations was her specialty. She was good at it and the job made her feel good doing it. She had spent time in operations in the United States Air Force. There she got to use drones to gather field intelligence and aid troops. She enjoyed her time in the military, but this was different. This was fighting a more insidious evil that had done so many evil things around the world. Things she had read but had not known the real story, until she joined the Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance.

Entering information on the datapad, frequencies were changed and she listened to what was being said. She prepared to move on when something said caught her ear. Picking up the datapad she entered a few key words and a file came up. Listening to the frequency she updated the file until the chatter on the radio went silent.

"Harry!" she called out. "Hold my station. I have to see the Administrator."

"Sure Joan, but..."

She ran off and made her way down the hallway towards a large office enclosed with frosted glass walls. The name on the door was Tyler Gregory, Administrator. She knocked on the door three times and opened the door a crack. The man behind the desk looked up and waved her in.

"What is it, Joan?" he asked, putting his pen down on his desk and picking up his coffee mug.

"Sir, I believe one of our operations has been compromised."

Joan walked up to his desk and attached her datapad to his computer and brought up the file. Gregory studied it on his system.

"This operation was intended to examine a target in South America."

"What was the nature of the target?" Gregory asked.

"A facility formerly operated by Umbrella," said Joan. "We believe it was used to further research on the Progenitor virus. The facility has been nonoperational for some time, but it was new on our radar."

"Ok?"

"The transport, Black Cloud, updated saying that they had lost contact with the operative, Fox. They said it may be the facility and were giving the Fox an hour. That was the last of it until this..."

Joan pushed a few keys on her datapad and brought up a new screen.

"I got this off the frequency network not three minutes ago," started Joan. "A unit of Cleaners was dispatched fifteen minutes ago. Origin of departure unknown, but the destination coordinates were quite familiar."

"They are heading towards the facility where this Fox person is?"

"Yes sir."

"Terrific," said Gregory. "Contact Black Cloud and get an update. Tell them to keep an eye on the facility from the location and radio in when the Cleaners arrive. I'll contact a field unit and get a back up in play."

"Yes sir!" said Joan before disconnecting her datapad and going back to her station.

Gregory picked up his phone and dialed a number.

"Cleaners...," he said to himself. "I hate those things."

South America

The lighting in the facility was poor because the generators powering the system were low. Apparently when the place was abandoned, someone left the lights on and they had been running ever since. There was no telling how much juice was left and when it would run out.

On the positive side of things Trafalgar had found a general map of the facility screwed into the wall. Apparently there for the truck and forklift operators to move things around as necessary. There were three main storage centers and a network of tunnels. A fourth area was added to the map with what appeared to be a red marker. It was crudely drawn and simply titled as 'Barracks'.

The closest storage center, or Storage Warehouse A1, had been locked down. From what he had seen through a rather scarred heavy-gauge glass window, Trafalgar guessed that the contents had been incinerated. He could definitely make out massive fire damage but that was all. He was now on his way to Storage Warehouse B2. While in transit he was exploring parts of the tunnel system linking the larger areas. He hoped to find a stairwell, silo or even an elevator leading back up and out of this place. So far he had had no luck. Just closets, break rooms, labs and empty rooms.

When Trafalgar arrived at B2 the large bay door was closed, much like at A1. This time, however, the window was broken with fractured chunks of glass. The air inside reeked of charred rubber, metal and something else. Something pervasive and nauseating but intangible. Flesh? Trafalgar examined the window and the interior of the room before making his way into B2. When he landed, he noticed there was a tremendous amount of glass on this side of the window as well.

Taking a look around, he saw that the room was littered with debris. Most of it barely recognizable. The rather expansive room was empty and yet it seemed crowded with death. Something did not feel right but Trafalgar could not put his finger on it. What was going on in this facility before they shut it down?

He tried his radio again and heard nothing but static. Trafalgar had been trying it every ten minutes hoping to find a window of communication. He turned it back off.

B2 proved to be worthless. It had no exits. The only other door led to a small office and a break room, both of which were empty. Besides the debris and fire damage the only thing of interest were the pock marks on the concrete walls in some areas. Bullet holes. After a quick sweep, Trafalgar made his way out of B2 via the shattered observation window.

His next stop would be at the barracks. He was working his way through the tunnel system counterclockwise. Finding a series of offices, Trafalgar ducked inside for a moment. He had been pounding turf since he hopped off Black Cloud. His knees were killing him and his back was feeling the weight of his equipment. Closing the office door, Trafalgar pushed the cheaply fashioned desk in front of it along with the chair.

The room was small but it had no windows and the door was the only way in. He just needed a few moments to rest and hydrate. Sitting down on the floor in the corner of the room, Trafalgar safed his rifle and set it aside and drew his sidearm, keeping it close and ready. Once settled, he opened his canteen and took a sip of water.

He would try his radio again in the barracks but he did not want to keep using up the battery. If it did not work there he would save it until he could find open air. There had to be an exit to this place. For the moment though, he just needed to close his eyes. Checking his watch, Trafalgar set the timer and put it on vibrate. Seven minutes. Seven minutes was what he would spare.


	5. Chapter 5

Sydney, Australia / BSAA Headquarters T76

Gregory set down his phone and punched a few keys on his computer and brought up a digital camera feed to Joan's station. Her face popped up on his screen in a separate box.

"Yes sir?"

"Any word from Black Cloud?"

"Negative, sir," Joan said. "Nothing from the Cleaners either."

"I wouldn't expect so," Gregory commented. "Our team got back to me. They are in the air. Hopefully they make it in time. Keep me updated."

"Yes sir."

Gregory shut off the audio/video feed and closed his laptop before sitting back in his chair. He could not believe that this operation had blown up in the way that it had. Who knew that TriCell had tabs on a facility that had been inactive for years. It had popped up on the agency's radar just recently. But, why had it?

Nobody asked, more than likely. Nobody would ever know.

This was the kind of thing that had gotten him out of field operations. He had done his time in the military. Being a rebellious sort, he had run away from his family home in Boston and joined the French Foreign Legion to get away from having to follow in the family line of lawyers. Armed with a passport and a high school French textbook, he made his way to France.

He spent six years with the Legion, his time ending when he and his unit were sent to investigate a riot in the Republic of the Congo. Not a usual sort of trouble. Something else.

What he found there froze his heart inside his chest. It also brought him to the BSAA. While his training and experience made him an excellent commander it also made him overprotective and gunshy at times. He had to work through may issues over the years to get where he was now.

He still was a mess on the inside. His guts frozen but his heart boiling with wanting to be there and see it for himself. Tyler rubbed his hands together absently, his skin tingling.

South America

Trafalgar woke and turned off his watch alarm. He checked the time briefly and then took another sip of water. Standing, he secured his gear before moving the desk and chair away from the door of the office. He opened the door and checked outside before walking out into the hallway. He would check out the barracks next.

Closing the office door behind him, Trafalgar began to move on down the hallway when he heard something. Something that sounded like paper tearing. He checked his radio, but it was off. He opened the door and looked inside the office and saw that the desk lamp had fallen onto the office chair. He looked around the hallway again briefly before closing the door.

The hallway gave out onto the tunnel system again. Trafalgar slowly made his way down the small metal staircase and began walking towards the entrance to the barracks section.

His footsteps echoed through the cavernous tunnel network as he walked. Some loose stones skittered across the ground as he occasionally came in contact with them. A low buzzing sound caused him to freeze in place and kneel, bringing up his rifle. The lights on the walls fluctuated for a few moments and then stabilized, the buzzing dying away. Trafalgar rose and, after a few moments of listening, resumed his journey to the barracks.

Trafalgar ascended the small metal staircase in front of the barracks building and checked the door. It was slightly ajar and he spotted no stray cords or wires. He pulled the door open slowly, always staying behind it. It groaned with the effort as the rusty hinges opened. When he felt it was safe, Trafalgar stepped to the entrance and used his flashlight to examine the interior of the barracks. They appeared to be fashioned from simple concrete blocks. The interior foyer was unpainted and held the usual shift, safety and workplace rule placards screwed onto the wall.

Stepping inside, Trafalgar moved to pull the door closed behind him. As he started he thought he heard something. That noise again, the paper tearing. Shaking his head, he closed the barracks door and listened for several moments, hearing nothing.

Moving out of the foyer, Trafalgar entered what he guessed was the common area. There was a large leather sofa and several chairs ranging from plastic patio furniture to cheap folding chairs. Three sets of dim lights were set above the sofa. A small kitchen area was set off to one side, an empty tv stand was in front of the sofa and some board games were on one of the chairs. There was a partially open metal cabinet on the wall opposite the kitchen. It had a deck of cards, two darts and a few cheap plastic poker chips of various colors.

On the back wall of the common area were three sets of double doors. Above each door was a sign. Shift 1, Shift 2 and Shift 3. Trafalgar shrugged and tried the doors marked Shift 1. Inside the room he saw two opposing rows of bunk beds. The beds were unmade in general as Trafalgar made his way into the room. There were a few posters on the wall ranging from motorcycles to models. Beyond that he saw nothing of interest. The room had only one entry and exit point apparently. The way he had come in.

After checking the few tables and shelves in the room and finding nothing but a few pencils and magazines, Trafalgar made his way back out and tried door number two.

This section of the barracks was similar to the first section. He found a few letters from someone named Sonia to Fred. They were of an intimate nature so Trafalgar put them back on the shelf. Nothing of use here except for a book unfinished crossword puzzles if he got bored and a metal spork. There was a foot locker at the foot of one of the bunks but it was filed with junk. Dice, magazines, postcards, a pair of boots and a set of dogtags.

"I guess we'll try door number three," muttered Trafalgar to himself.

Section three was basically a carbon copy of the first two. Useless unless he wanted to sit back and 'read the articles' in Playboy, finish crosswords or take a nap. Shaking his head, Trafalgar stretched and sat down on one of the bunks to rest a moment. As he sat down heavily on the bunk, Trafalgar felt something and sprang up almost immediately. His hand grabbed the thin mattress and whipped it away from the frame, tossing it aside. There he found a small metallic box.

Picking it up, he felt that it had some decent weight. Unfortunately it was also locked. Taking out his multitool from a pocket on his vest, Trafalgar chose the reamer. Using a metal ashtray, Trafalgar hammered the reamer through the lock mechanism of the box. Fortunately it was not a complicated lock and broke after a few minutes. Trafalgar tossed the metal ashtray on another bunk and opened the box.

"Well, hello there."

Set inside the box on a thick rag was a handgun. A Remington-made 1911. Three loaded magazines were also inside of the box, the weapon itself unloaded. The rounds were all .45 ACP hollow points. Trafalgar clicked off the safety and checked the chamber, finding it empty. A cursory examination found the weapon to be clean and serviceable. An odd find, but he would take it. Loading one magazine, Trafalgar secured the pistol and placed the other two magazines in pockets on his vest. At least something had come out of this venture.

As he moved to close the box, Trafalgar saw a piece of paper under the rag. He pulled it out and saw that it had been folded and on one side was written the words 'In case of emergency'. Unfolding the paper, Trafalgar read over the contents and nodded.

"An exit in the secured area behind the offices in C3," said Trafalgar aloud. "Thank you whoever you are."

Standing, Trafalgar picked up his rifle and made his way back through the barracks to the main room. He pushed open the door and heard the sound of paper tearing again. Only this time, it was louder and closer.

In the common room was a large beast. The dim light glistening on the surface of it's pale pink-gray flesh. It was the size of a tiger, perhaps. Built like a cross between a jungle cat and a frog. It's muscular, veined body sitting very much like the second creature. The sound came again and a wickedly fast, thin tongue flickered from it's jagged maw. It's head resembling a pulsating brain with a mouth.

"Oh God...," muttered Trafalgar under his breath.


	6. Chapter 6

The creature's head snapped in his direction and the sound of tearing paper was issued again, the tongue whipping wildly. Trafalgar brought up his rifle as the thing leaped from it's position and came towards him, it's clawed fingers extended towards him.

"Shit!"

Trafalgar side-stepped the attack, but the creature's talons had cut into his arm and torn his rifle from his hands. The creature stayed facing the wall for a moment and Trafalgar began to make a break for the door leading towards the tunnels. The beast turned and leaped towards him again, stumbling over the leather sofa as it's talons sliced through the cushions. Trafalgar drew his SIG and fired two shots at the creature as it tumbled off the sofa.

He did not stop to see if the rounds had penetrated the target, opting to make a break for it instead. Breaking through the door and out into the tunnel area, Trafalgar drew one of his four grenades and prepared it. Tossing it back through the door and into the foyer, Trafalgar kept running. He heard the shriek of the creature and then an explosion. The echo was deafening and Trafalgar stumbled, but he kept running.

His heart pounded in his chest and his blood felt like acid in his veins, but he did not want to stop. He ran towards Storage Warehouse C3 with all of his might. The large bay door was open on this one and Trafalgar ran inside. The floor was littered with some papers and other debris one would find inside a warehouse. A few forklifts and piles of palettes were scattered about, but nothing else of note was to be seen. This bay was lit better than most. Trafalgar stopped at one of the forklifts and leaned on it heavily, attempting to catch his breath.

How long had he been running? Had he killed it? What was that thing? So many questions and so little brain cells with oxygen left in them to process it all. He removed his night vision goggles as the lighting here was adequate without them.

"Focus, Fox," he muttered to himself. "Foc..."

_*Hissssssss...sss...*_

"Oh sh..."

Turning, Trafalgar saw the creature right at his doorstep. One of it's large forelegs smacking against his body. He felt himself flying through the air and then abruptly impacting against something hard. Thank goodness for body armor.

Trafalgar stirred slowly, trying to rally himself and not surrender to the approaching darkness. Why did he feel like he was drowning? He spit something away from him, as he felt an odd slime-texture spill across his head and onto his shoulders and back. He felt drops ooze through his hairline and then the smell hit him. It was motor oil.

Putting a hand to his face, Trafalgar cleared the oil from his face and opened his eyes. The beast was sitting there no more than three feet from him. It was facing him and it's tongue was whipping about wildly like a downed power line. It's head bobbed from side to side, seemingly looking around. Seemingly, since it did not appear to have any eyes.

"The tongue must be used to sense vibrations, like a snake's," thought Trafalgar.

Moving to stand, Trafalgar tried to remain as quiet as possible. The oil slick that had formed around him conspired to do otherwise, however. As he stood to his feet, Trafalgar slipped slightly on the oil, catching himself on the forklift. The beast leaped at him again and Trafalgar jumped away, leaving the thing to impact heavily against the forklift.

The echoing ring of the metal of the forklift filled C3 and the creature moved in a circle for several moments until the sound died down. Trafalgar used the time to retrieve his dropped SIG and took aim at the creature, firing off three shots.

The rounds struck their target in it's shoulder and neck. He saw a greenish fluid leak from the wounds before the creature tore across the ground, moving rapidly towards him. Trafalgar fired off another two shots before ducking and rolling away from the creature. Trafalgar eyed a nearby forklift and crouch-walked over towards it, putting it between him and the experiment. It was familiar but the name was escaping him.

His breath was still coming hard and Trafalgar fought to keep it under control. His arm was bleeding and he was tired and wired simultaneously.

"Licker!" he thought to himself.

Valentine had mentioned it in one of her briefings. New members of the BSAA were exposed to the files of all known Umbrella and TriCell experiments. This ugly beast was a Licker. Sightless but with terrific hearing and sense of smell.

Looking over the forklift seat, Trafalgar saw the Licker milling about. It obviously did not smell him now. Why that it did not smell him was a question on Trafalgar's mind, but he put it aside for the moment.

Raising up slightly, Trafalgar took aim with his SIG and opened fire at the Licker. He squeezed the trigger again and again sending rounds into the creature's flesh. Having caught it unaware, the Licker caught several rounds before leaping away. With the sustained gunfire echoing in the warehouse, the Licker had not been able to find him. Now it was milling about behind some wooden palettes.

Now Trafalgar had a plan. Moving towards the damaged forklift, Trafalgar extracted one of his three remaining grenades. As quietly as possible, he pulled the pin and held the spoon in place. Placing the grenade on the seat of the forklift, Trafalgar held it down with a section of wood braced to hold unless severely jostled.

Backing away from the forklift, Trafalgar froze when he saw the Licker crawling out from behind the palettes on the other side of the forklift, coming out onto the floor again. Easing his foot back down in an attempt to move quietly away, Trafalgar heard the crunch of grit under his boot. Unfortunately, the Licker heard the same thing.

The licker leaped towards the noise and landed inside the cage of the forklift, knocking the wood debris loose. Trafalgar turned and made a break for it. The grenade exploded, knocking Trafalgar onto his face and sending his SIG skittering off.

The forklift was on fire along with the Licker. The Licker was shrieking and the stench filling the area was thick and horrible. Trafalgar collected himself and caught his breath before pulling himself up to a sitting position.

The Licker, he could see, was laying belly-up in a pile of twisted metal. Wreckage from the forklift. Standing, Trafalgar drew his Ka-Bar and walked over to the creature. He could see it's heart pulsing beneath a thin layer of translucent skin. Raising the knife, Trafalgar plunged it harshly into the chest of the Licker, slicing open the heart. The beast thrashed wildly for several moments and then became still. A few seconds later it went limp entirely.

"Okay...exit...," said Trafalgar, his voice ragged with the effort and smoke. "Behind offices...C3."

Looking around for his SIG, Trafalgar could not see it. Cursing, he made his way towards the offices. The secured area was locked off from access by a Plexiglass and metal door that had to be opened with a card reader.

"Oh to Hell with this."

Walking back out, Trafalgar pulled one of his two remaining grenades and prepared it, rolling it across the floor towards the door. Ducking down at a safe distance, he heard the explosion and saw dust and debris issue forth from the room. Coughing, he looking down the hall and saw the the door was mangled and breached enough for him to get through.

Slipping through the broken doorway, Trafalgar found himself at the bottom of a large stairwell. He began his climb, energized by the victory over the Licker, adrenaline and finding a possible means of escape.


	7. Chapter 7

Pounding his way up flight after flight of stairs, Trafalgar worked his way up towards the top. At the landing just below the final door, Trafalgar stopped to catch his breath. The door at the top of the last set of stairs exploded inward, impacting against the wall directly opposite and filling the room with noise and smoke.

The door grated and banged it's way down the stairwell as three black-clad men entered the stairwell area. They made sounds, but it did not make any sense in Trafalgar's mind. He found himself pulling the 1911 he had found from his vest and firing.

The first two men staggered back and seemingly dissolved into nothing. The third man ducked back outside. Trafalgar picked up one of the weapons from the downed men, a MP5. He took the magazine from the second one. A grenade rolled in through the door as Trafalgar made his way to the top of the stairs. He knocked it off the landing, sending it down the stairwell where it exploded and rocked the staircase itself.

Trafalgar turned on his radio now that he was out of the facility. Bullets tinged at the doorway and he kept back.

"Black Cloud, this is Fox. Come in."

Nothing but static came from the radio. Trafalgar took his hand away from the mic and shook his head.

"Damn it!"

Pulling his last grenade, Trafalgar prepared it and tossed it outside. It exploded a few seconds later and Trafalgar heard some more of the weird guttural sounds he had heard the first three of these guys make. Quickly slipping out of the doorway, Trafalgar made a run for cover, using the MP5 in bursts to keep the enemy at bay. He had to get his location in order to try and report in.

Ducking down behind a concrete barrier, Trafalgar saw that he was on a small airstrip. More than likely to bring personnel and supplies down through C3. Bullets impacted against the concrete barrier. Trafalgar peered above the top just long enough to fire a three round burst at an approaching target. The man collapsed and dissolved.

The cover here was minimal and he could very easily be flanked. Trafalgar fired another burst from his MP5 and ran towards a shed. Bullets impacted the ground and heated the air around him as he ran. As he made it to the door, two rounds tore into his left thigh and Trafalgar collapsed through the shed door. He dragged himself inside as more bullets pinged against the cinder block wall of the shed.

"Crap...," said Trafalgar.

He pulled the empty magazine from his MP5 and replaced it with the one spare he had. Looking out of the doorway, Trafalgar caught two of the commandos advancing on his position and cut them down with the MP5. They dropped and thrashed for a few seconds until they dissolved.

"That is just disturbing..."

Trafalgar caught a few more commandos and then his MP5 ran dry. He dropped it and drew his 1911. He had fired it three times. He had four left until he needed to reload. He had fourteen more rounds after that and then he was done.

A grenade bounced through the doorway of the shed and Trafalgar reflexively picked it up and tossed it back outside. The grenade exploded, knocking him against the far wall of the shed. His vision swam and his ears rang. He was also pretty sure he had taken some fragmentation, even though he could not feel it at the moment.

Through his haze he could see shadows of approaching figures on the wall across from him. His time was up. Fourth down with five yards to the goal line and the clock was running down. Looks like it's game over, champ.

Trafalgar closed his eyes for a moment, his grip tightening on his 1911. He fought to raise his arm. He would at least get one more. If only the thumping inside his ears would stop. The noise was deafening. He wanted to hear them coming.

One by one the shadows on the wall disappeared only to reappear a few moments later. He heard a voice, but it sounded like he was underwater. The voice was so thick and indistinct. Trafalgar aimed his 1911 at the door.

"BSAA!" came the voice, clearly.

Trafalgar waited and a man in woodland camo with the BSAA patch on his arm came inside.

"I found him!" he called out as he stepped inside and pulled a medkit from his his pack. "Hey buddy, stay awake, alright? Help is here. My name is Ark Thompson. Can you hear me?"

The man named Thompson put Trafalgar's hand on a scanner.

"Code...phrase...?" muttered Trafalgar.

"Fox Hunt," said Thompson. "The retrieval code is Fox Hunt."

"David Trafalgar, BSAA North American Branch."

"Confirmed," nodded Thompson as he injected Trafalgar with a serum. "You'll be fine. We're going to get you out of here."

Another man came into the shed and helped Thompson pick up Trafalgar and take him outside to a stretcher. Soon he could feel the wind whipping by him as they flew away. Win by Hail Mary.

Time to hit the showers.

**The End**


End file.
